I planted a garden earlier this spring.

I haven’t mentioned it much because we’ve been caught up in broody hens and baby chicks and a whole bunch of real life stuff.  I keep meaning to mention it, if that makes any feel any better.

DH built me these lovely garden plots out of old railroad ties and dutifully filled them with topsoil – by hand until my back started hurting and then I bullied him into using the tractor and bucket to do the rest.

We planted a variety of things I’ve never tried growing before, but the kids love.  Brussels sprouts, broccoli, cabbage, sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, celery, beans and carrots.

Dad and DH both planted individual plots of strawberries.

Dad planted corn, several types of squash, tomatoes, pumpkins, cucumbers, and radishes.

Then DH’s gave us some black raspberry bushes to transplant.

In short, we have things growing everywhere.  Some better than others because we’ve only been getting one good rainfall a week at best.

Except for the weeds.  Those were growing like gangbusters all over the place!

Last night, DH, Little Dude and I weeded out the garden boxes, so the real plants could grow.

This morning, I tossed an armful of pulled weeds into the pasture for the chickens.  They like grass and leafy things, but do you think they would eat them?

Nope!  My spoiled little birds turned their noses up at it.

Now… if I’d have given them some of the yummy veggies, it would have been a different story!